


Fault Lines

by NeverComingHome



Category: Aladdin (1992), Disney Princesses, Mulan (1998)
Genre: F/F, Id Fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-13
Updated: 2015-02-15
Packaged: 2018-03-12 04:54:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3344354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NeverComingHome/pseuds/NeverComingHome
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A war story in a love story.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

They were led in a formal row with offerings from the lands they’d been stripped or sold away from. Jasmine weaved through them and their gifts, smelling flowers, sampling fruits. She passed over Mulan the first time because she held nothing, but when she laced through the group one more time she noticed streaked remnants of face paint misplaced along the other’s neck and the impression of a thumb on her shoulder as if someone had tried to dress her and failed. There were minute tears in her dress as well and, when Jasmine looked down, the skin of her knuckles were red and disrupted.

“What of this one?”

A guard stepped forward. “The battlefield is no place for a woman, war has left her traumatized, but harmless. Her commander begged us to take her off their hands,” Mulan sniffed, but when Jasmine looked at her she betrayed nothing.

“Leave her with me.”

~*~  
Shan Yu’s son had emerged to finish the job his father started and the world Mulan once knew was shuffling bleakly towards a dynasty under his thumb. The only remaining hope came from a wandering stranger they’d come across while fleeing Borte’s army; he was being pursued by men under the command of Jafar for possessing information on a “cave of wonders”. Jafar had destroyed his life in search of the scriptures and he wanted only a promise that they might use it to avenge the family he lost before using its resources against their own foe. After debating fact and fiction they agreed that the reward was worth the risk and placed themselves in the path of Jafar’s men to plant their most cunning warrior among them with Mushu as their in between. 

So there she was, having thought she’d be assigned to servant work which would allow her to navigate the temple and its secrets, but instead relegated to entertain a bored princess in a room the size of the home she’d been raised in. Mushu had used the powers of his guardianship so she could understand the language, but she kept the knowledge between them. She couldn’t outright disobey the princess nor do anything unforgivable for risk of death or expulsion, but she could be as immovable and stubborn as the day was long and wait for Jasmine to take up a new distraction.

How long that would take she began to debate after her first week of service. Jasmine fancied herself the owner of a storyteller who wouldn’t tell tales and often would eye Mulan throughout the day and invent things for her to say. 

“If you could speak, what would you tell me?” She wondered aloud as Mulan fitted the shoes upon her feet then reached for a comb. “I heard there was a woman who moved mountains of snow with fire. Did she breathe it from her mouth? I’ve heard there are mystics who can summon giant monsters with spikes for tails and claws more ferocious than Raja could dream.” The tiger gave an almost insulted roar of disapproval and padded towards the balcony. “You see, now I’ve insulted my favorite pet for you, doesn’t that warrant even a ‘hello’?” Finished with her task, Mulan set the comb aside and stood quietly behind the chair with hands interlaced behind her back. “I guess not” 

She stood to face her and they stayed like that for a moment, waiting out each other, but as expected Jasmine gave in first and rolled her eyes.

“Perhaps Tutor will have more luck with you, Fa.”

“Perhaps Tutor will have more luck with you."

“What?”

“What.”

“What did you say?”

“What did you say.”

“No, what did _you_ …” She shook her head, not knowing how hard Mulan was fighting back a smirk. “Not a storyteller then, but a parrot.”

“Not a storyteller.”

If Jasmine wanted to sneak out she had to secure an alibi with her dressmakers, but even if it was only mimicry it was the most Mulan had spoken to her and scaling the wall was rather a hassle. In the end she left, but ordered the guard to allow only Tutor inside and to let her know everything said during their time together. 

~*~  
When the elderly woman arrived Mulan feigned sickness and put to bed that nonsense so she could drop off the edge of the balcony and do the investigative work Jasmine’s constant presence had kept her from. She jotted down a rough map of all the roped off and locked areas, shied away from the servants dressed in bright colors and made quick friends with those scurrying frightened on chores for the sultan’s adviser. She gave Mushu the task of keeping an eye on them to see which ran to Jafar with news of a servant wandering around asking questions, confident in the disguise she’d donned for her mission of finding at least one ally within the palace walls. 

The sun was setting when she returned to the princess’s chambers which were empty, much to her surprise. She cleaned then changed into her night gown but, instead of retiring to the conjoined room, crouched in a dark corner of Jasmines’. She placed her palms together and focused on not moving, scenarios racing through her head. Was Jasmine apart of Jafar’s plans? Would his take over be like Borte’s who quietly killed the royal family and let the sun rise on a new order? Just as she began to nervously consider ransacking the palace, Jasmine came in yawning from the balcony. She had a tambourine and was rattling it gently as she danced and hummed her way across the room. It was disarmingly sweet and Mulan couldn’t help but laugh at both Jasmine and herself for worrying in the first place.

“Who’s there?”

Silent warrior indeed. She straightened up and walked forward until the moonlight shone on her face.

“Oh.” Jasmine toed out of her shoes and hooked the instrument on the loop of what appeared to be a new belt. “I forgot it was market night, father would have a conniption if he knew I’d been out.” She draped her arms across Mulan’s shoulders. “You won’t tell him, will you?”

It was a testament to her training that Mulan didn’t roll her eyes at the joke, but her lack of reaction seemed to amuse Jasmine all the more. 

“If you could’ve been there, oh, there were boys who grew up on an island of stone where it never stops raining and women who never saw land until their sons were men. I’m sure you have stories that would put all of theirs to shame, Fa, but I bet even you have never seen a ring so bright it lit up the square like a blue sun! And the music,” she groaned, tilting her head back, “you would just die. Do you know the word ‘dance’?”

Mulan was suddenly very nervous, the girl who fumbled her way through the matchmaker’s trials was quickly resurfacing and the warrior who had crouched motionless for hours was put to bed with the simple touch of Jasmine’s hands to her hips. She coaxed them side to side while whispering ‘dance’ and their foreheads nearly touched as they both watched their movements. Eventually Jasmine stopped touching her and lifted her hands above her head as the tambourine shook against her thigh. 

Mulan had done very official and serious things in the princess’s absence; she’d thought with her head for the sake of her heart which rested with her country. Was it really so terrible if she indulged in a little twilight dancing with someone who might only barely remember it in the morning? Jasmine had turned and her fingers were lightly petting Mulan’s hair as she resumed her humming. Mulan slowly joined her with another tune and changed the movements of her hips to step in time to it. Jasmine continued with her humming, but copied Mulan’s steps until they were face to face again, dancing away and towards each other across the room.

“The girl who taught me this song said that a good dancer makes a terrific lover,” she reached for the silk holding Mulan’s gown together, “and you are a fantastic dancer.”

“So are you.”

Later she would tell Shang and Mushu that she quickly turned her cheek because if given the choice she would’ve rather fallen to the floor and knocked herself unconscious than allow herself to be kissed by a stranger and they would choose to believe her. What really happened was that Mulan leaned in first, mostly to delay the conversation awaiting them and, much like a house cat who didn’t know what to do with the bird once it had been caught, Jasmine kissed her back out of pure instinct. There were too many questions and for the moment kissing was the simplest answer. When standing became a burden Jasmine pressed her lips to the bruises on Mulan’s knuckles.

“Will you tell me everything tomorrow if I let you sleep?”

“Yes.”

“Do you swear?”

“I swear.”

~*~  
Mushu was waiting for Mulan on her pillow.

“They’ve found it.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Contains: some war, some sex

Her father told her that some simply didn’t know how well they had it and reminded her how she’d been warned of the servants’ unbalanced nature so, really, how upset could she be? Jasmine wrapped her arms tighter around her legs and nodded like she was taking his words to heart, but as soon as he left she unfolded the letter she’d found once again. Mulan had told her everything: the battle against Shan Yu, the deceit that had led to the highest of honors, the short period of bliss before Borte’s arrival, and finally the reasons for why she left without waking her. 

The letter had been explicit in telling her to meet Chien to ride out the oncoming storm. They didn’t know what waited for them, but they knew Jafar would do everything to keep them from it. For some reason Mulan thinking she was someone to be protected rather than entrusted was…insulting. You couldn’t know a person’s worth in a week and she was more than a restless girl in a golden tower. 

When Jafar disappeared in the dead of the night, leaving his chambers emptied and their armory bare, Jasmine brought the letter to her father. His voice softened as he explained why they could not prepare themselves for war on the word of a stranger, but was interrupted by a rumble in the distance. Borte had a plant among Shang’s men and the battle over the lamp was split three ways as the sides struggled to figure out with whom they wished to align. The righteous were indistinguishable from the fallen as swords and scythes clashed and torches were lit and thrown onto the already flaming. 

Jasmine stood, frozen with fear. She knew Jafar’s weaknesses, his favorite tactics and who to run towards, but could not bring herself to act. An arm hooked her roughly about the middle as an elephant thundered in her direction.

“Mulan!”

“Wait,” she dodged an arrow and steered her horse away from the chaos, “wait.”

~*~  
Her wounds reddened the cloth tied around her arm and black, forked lines spiraled down her neck hinting at a violent brush with sorcery. As soon as they found shelter Mulan dropped to her knees, exhaling coughs of purple smoke. Jasmine knelt beside her and blurted out everything she knew and everything she only half knew as if it would remedy the broken warrior.

“I told you to leave.” She began to cough again, “I knew it would come to this. Not exactly this, but I knew.”

“I needed to see you again.”

“You barely know me.” Mulan lifted up.

“I know enough.”

She pointed to the darkening sky where Jafar was rising on the shoulders of a red eyed genie. “Then you know that I will die before I bow to the likes of him.”

“There is no honor in a suicide mission! I may not have been ready to ride into battle when I first met you, but I am ready now and it shouldn’t matter why.” She removed a glowing orb from her pocket. “Trust me.”

~*~  
The defeat of Jafar came at the price of the lamp which Borte stole away with to China. They used enchanted gems stolen from the cave to rise into the clouds or simply quicken their speed. Being the only women in the party, Jasmine and Mulan were given the privacy of a caravan pulled by a horse who moved so quickly it almost felt as if they were flying.

Jasmine was unused to keeping such small (and quiet) company and it wasn’t long until she was no longer content with watching Mulan polish her weapons. She sat cross legged and rested her head on the other’s shoulder.

“Tell me a story.”

“Tell me a story.”

Jasmine swatted her knee and Mulan smirked, but eventually Jasmine recalled one her father told her. It was about a tiger cub that was too impatient to be big and strong and begged a large bird to teach it how to move swiftly and perfect its roar. The bird was hesitant and made the cub swear to protect them when they were capable, but as soon as the cubs claws came in it pounced on the bird and ate it whole.  


“You’re supposed to feel sorry for the bird, for trusting too easily, but I felt worse for the tiger. He probably didn’t want to eat the bird, but his instincts kicked in and he had no other choice.” Jasmine traced interlocking circles down Mulan’s thigh. “Haven’t you ever felt that way?”

“No.”

Jasmine’s fingers dipped between her legs and began to rub, shifting the fabric as she watched with her head still on Mulan’s shoulder.

“You want to stop, but you can’t. You’re compelled to spread your legs,” Mulan’s legs stretched out, “and touch me.” Mulan obeyed, meeting the kiss that waited for her when she did. Jasmine tugged at her, not knowing exactly what she wanted, but knowing that Mulan would help her get it quicker. While situating herself onto Mulan’s lap her skirt scrunched up and Mulan’s fingers found themselves in a slick heat that squeezed around her touch. 

“Keep doing that.”

“I’m not doing anything,” Mulan began to curl and uncurl her fingers and Jasmine moaned, rocking herself on them, “you keep doing that.”

She couldn’t feel her toes or her arms hanging slack on Mulan’s shoulders; all that existed was inside her and she gave herself up to it. She wanted to tell Mulan to slow down, to hurry up, to kiss her and bring her back to reality, but all that made it out was “Yes, yes, yes” until she came to wherever she was going and her body shook with the relief of it. The world was still fuzzy around the edges, but it was there and she was riding a magic horse on an epic journey to save mankind so maybe it was alright that for the moment all she could think about was how many times they could do this before someone came to check on them.


End file.
